A Muddy Bouquet
by Hauptmann Holmes
Summary: Tag to "What's New Scooby-Doo?: Big Scare in the Big Easy". Daphne loses her shoe in a puddle of ectoplasm and someone unexpected gives her a hand. One-shot.


**Disclaimer:** I don't own Scooby and the gang, WB does!

**Summary:** Tag to "What's New Scooby-Doo?: Big Scare in the Big Easy". Daphne looses her shoe in a puddle of ectoplasm and someone unexpected gives her a hand. One-shot.

**Author's Note:** Hey, guys, this is my first _Scooby-Doo_ fanfiction. So constructive criticism would be wonderful!

"Oh no, not again!"

Daphne Blake fell head over heels into the thick Louisiana mud. She pulled herself from the puddle, wiping the mud from her face as she did. One of her fashionable purple heels was stuck in the goopy stuff. Not to mention the huge stains on her _newest_ purple dress. It would take weeks to get them all out!

"Like, what happened, Daphne?"

She looked up to see Shaggy standing on the edge of the mud puddle. It was surprising that Shaggy, and not Freddy, had stopped to help her. Normally Shaggy was the first one to run and after that, nothing could stop him.

"My shoe got stuck in the mud again," the offending substance squished into the unprotected foot of her tights. "Or is it ectoplasm? Where's Velma when you need her," Daphne laughed. She bent and pulled at the shoe; it was, however, clear that the high heel had no intention of going anywhere. "I don't want you to get messy, but could you please help me get my shoe out?"

"Like, sure," Shaggy stepped into the puddle and yanked at the shoe. It came free with a _pop_ and sent Shaggy flying backward into the mud. He landed and sent a splash of mud flying everywhere.

Daphne suddenly found herself in need of a hot bath and a change of clothes. She looked up to see poor Shaggy covered from head to toe. "Jeepers, Shaggy, I'm sorry!"

She rushed forward to help him up, in the process slipping and landing in the puddle again. She laughed. "We sure are in a pretty pickle!"

"I could, like, use a pickle right about now," Shaggy pulled himself out of the mud and helped Daphne up.

An owl hooted, a cat screeched, and something splashed into a puddle nearby. They were suddenly aware that they were all alone in a haunted cemetery. The fog grew heavier by the second. Everything was dark, damp, and creaking.

"Let's, like, get out of here," Shaggy started to run, but, remembering that he wasn't alone, stopped a few feet short of the path. "Can you run?"

Daphne slipped her shoe on and attempted to jog toward him. Her ankle twisted painfully; she slid down a small slope next to the path. "I think I twisted my ankle."

"Like, that's too bad," for a horrible moment, she thought that Shaggy was going to leave her alone in the graveyard while he ran off screaming. But her fears were unfounded. He walked calmly over and lifted her off the ground. "Remember when we were kids and, like, you used to love piggyback rides?"

"Yes."

"Well this is just like that," he laughed. Daphne could feel the laugh vibrating through his ribs.

"Shaggy, how come you didn't just run? You could've left me there, but you didn't."

"It would be, like, totally ungentlemanly of me to leave you here! My mom would, like, have my head if she heard," he laughed again. But his laugh died when the cat screeched in the distance. She could feel him shaking.

Daphne's mind raced for a way to keep him from being scared. "What do you like to do in your spare time," she blurted, unable to think of anything else.

The shaking lessened. "I'm into art and, like, music is super groovy, too. Oh yeah, and helping out at the animal shelter is, like, good for my karma."

"I didn't know you were into music, playing it, that is. What instrument?"

"Like, ukulele and a little piano. Although I'm no good at it."

"I'm sure you're really good, Shaggy! And I know you're good at art," eerie creaking noises were coming from all around them now. She could feel Shaggy almost convulsing now. She was grasping at straws to keep him from panicking. "In fact, I've wanted to design clothes of my own for a long time, but I can't draw. Would you help me?"

He stopped in his tracks. "Like, me help you?" Shaggy tilted his head backward so he could see her. "Like, Daphne, I thought you'd never ask!"

She felt color rising in her cheeks. _Stop it! It's just Shaggy!_ "Sure, I'd love your help! You're such a good artist!"

His shivers has ceased. He walked at a normal pace, chattering on about how "groovy" it would be to design clothes, about how different colors looked with each other, and how they could even donate some of the money to the Coolsville Animal Shelter.

Daphne was just relieved that he wasn't scared anymore. Then it dawned on her. She was talking to Shaggy. Not about food, or about the case, or even bribing him with Scooby Snacks. They were just talking. It was an odd feeling, chatting about the finer points of color coordination with someone she hadn't thought capable of much more than winning hot dog eating contests. She smiled to herself and let her head fall forward onto his shoulder.

_Stop it!_ her mind screamed. Daphne pulled her head back up. His shoulder was surprisingly comfortable.

Shaggy's dissertation on how well purple and yellow went together in paintings (and everything else) paused. "Like, are you okay, Daphne?"

"Yes, I am," she sighed, looking at the gravestones instead of the sandy-haired head in front of her.

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, uhm, what do you think of adding purple and orange?"

"The colors of a beautiful sunset, man," she could almost see him smiling. "And of your dress and hair. Add some pinks and lime green and we could, like, make an entire collection call 'Blake Sunset,'" he laughed. "It would be totally groovy!"

For a few moments everything was completely silent. Even the crickets stopped chirping.

"Y'know, Daphne, I don't mind if you put your head on my shoulder," Shaggy turned his head trying to see her. "If you're, like, tired."

She smiled. "Thanks, Shaggy. The next time you see your mom, you can tell her that her son is a perfect gentleman."

Daphne lay her head back down on Shaggy's shoulder. He rambled on about how art — and, sometimes, fashion — could convey such deep messages about life and love. She inhaled deeply. He smelled like mud. But just at that moment, she thought it was the most lovely smell in the world.


End file.
